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“They do?” Merletta blinked. “I thought Skulssted was the wealthiest of the cities.”
“Oh, it is,” Sage confirmed. “But Hemssted has more influence for all that.” She rolled her eyes. “At least, they like to think so. You know what they’re like.”
“Not really,” said Merletta, fascinated. “I thought Skulssted and Hemssted were united in looking down on Tilssted.”
“Well, we are, generally,” Sage admitted apologetically. “But that doesn’t mean we don’t bicker amongst ourselves as well.”
“Huh.” Merletta locked the thought away for later. It was new information to her, but Sage still looked unusually anxious, and she thought it best to change the subject. “What about after the test, though? Surely you’re looking forward to a break?
Sage smiled. “Yes, I am. It will be nice to go home for a whole month.”
“And if your test is in a couple of weeks, your birthday must be only a month after that, right? What will you do for that?”
“My family will host a party, I imagine,” said Sage, looking slightly awkward as she always did whenever talking about her family. Nothing Merletta said seemed to convince her that she wasn’t sensitive about being an orphan. “Turning eighteen is kind of a big deal.”
“It certainly is,” Merletta agreed, with an encouraging smile.
She turned her attention back to the room, her eyes skating over the various attendees. She saw Ileana, looking irritatingly polished and glamorous. She was wearing some of the fanciest shells Merletta had ever seen.
At least she wasn’t glaring at Merletta for once. Her gaze was directed elsewhere, and following it, Merletta noticed a silver-haired merman on the far side of the space, surrounded by a knot of important-looking officials. Glancing around, she realized that more merpeople than just Ileana were watching him out of the corners of their eyes.
“Who’s that?” she asked, nodding in his direction.
Sage followed the gesture, her forehead creasing. “You don’t know who that is?”
Merletta shook her head.
“That’s the Record Master,” said Sage. “The most senior merman in the record holding program. In the whole Center of Culture.” She paused. “So in all the triple kingdoms, really.”
Merletta raised an eyebrow. “Surely the regents of the three cities would disagree with that.”
Sage shrugged one shoulder. “They might not admit it, but they must all know that the Center is the real seat of power in the triple kingdoms.”
Merletta was silent, surprised by this plain speaking. She had begun to get the impression that most of those who worked and lived in the Center shared that view. But she hadn’t heard it said before now. Perhaps it was Sage’s status as a legacy applicant that made her take that stance so confidently.
“I’ve heard of the Record Master, of course,” Merletta said eventually. “He doesn’t look like I expected.” He looked, in fact, quite ordinary. “What’s he like?”
Sage gave an incredulous laugh. “I have no idea. He’s basically the ruler of the triple kingdoms, Merletta. It’s not like I’ve spoken to him.”
She’d barely said the words when the Record Master’s eyes suddenly flicked to them. Both trainees froze, and Merletta wondered if Sage was also filled with the same unnerving feeling that he knew what they’d been saying. It was impossible, of course, with how far across the room he was. But his gaze remained fixed on them nevertheless.
With the most casual of movements, he began to float through the throng, exchanging a word here and there with those he passed. The officials surrounding him stayed where they were, but two expressionless guards drifted across the room with the Record Master, flanking him. Merletta turned away, not wanting to be caught staring. A suggestion that they find food was on the tip of her tongue when Sage gave a strangled hiss.
“Merletta!”
She turned, and her eyes widened as she saw what had made Sage speak. The Record Master’s eyes were on them, and he was undoubtedly coming their way.
The two mermaids had time to do no more than exchange a glance before he was upon them.
“Happy Founders’ Day, Record Master,” Sage said breathlessly, inclining her head in a respectful gesture. Merletta did her best to copy.
“Happy Founders’ Day to you as well, trainees,” the man replied, with a glance at their armbands. His voice was deep and calm, and his expression was relaxed as he looked them over. His eyes settled on Sage. “I think I have met your mother. You are a legacy applicant, are you not?”
“I am, sir,” said Sage, sounding dazed. “It is my honor to continue my family’s tradition.”
The Record Master bobbed his head in acknowledgment, before turning eyes the color of a storm cloud to Merletta. He examined her in silence for a nerve-wracking moment.
“And you are our Tilssted applicant, I believe.”
